You have a good story here, but it jumps from the painting to playing guitar, then he shows jealousy and wants to audition for the play. Some how
it seems to be a bit bit jumpy you don't explain why he hates the painting so much. Why is there a connection to the painting and her acting?
Maybe I am not awake enough to give a good opinion. I think I would put myself into the story to revise it.The end, with the twist was great. I would like to see more description of her.
Whatever you do, remember, your writing is really good. Keep it up!
Past the point of understanding,
And looking for relief.
I go to God in prayer.
He gives me grace and peace.
I really like the beginning with you using looking for relief from God and he gives you grace and peace. How wonderfully put. The entire poem lets people know, if you just look to God and Jesus, you can find grace and peace. These are two of the best things they both can give to us to continue on in our life.
Oh m y! Oh my! What a great story you have written. I like the way you showed the wife not believing her husband would really go on this trip. Then showing them on this trip with the wife staying behind them. Then the scream came and Jacks makes a statement that he would know that scream anywhere. It would make me think a bit more, especially when he talked about the young boy being lost.
Apparently the Hunter, Jack fdid bring people to the forest and to the clearing not for shooting a deer, but to feed his brother. Pretty gruesome I think. But you wrote a fascinating story. Keep up the good work. Keep on writing so we ca read them.
ooooooooooh, this is scary! No, seriously, what a good writing piece you have here. You bring Kate in at the right time. I understand the short piece because of the time restriction, but when the contest is over, maybe you should have a little more about the other friends and what has been happening to them. The it reaches Camilla. I think it would bring in a bit more tension to the story. Anyway, I really liked your story and good luck!
This is a true and honest poem written in rhymes. I like the way you have used the rhymes as it keeps the reader moving along at a good pace. I really like the stanzas
We changed the world - one hand at a time,
While I held hers and she held mine.
White to brown - and brown to black,
We can take our world back.
The poem is neither pushy or completely Christian. It is not telling people they must accept our God. It only shows we all have a God and we can learn to understand each other ways one hand at a time.
Keep writing these beautiful poems and maybe we can learn to go hand and hand.
Hi, I' Scorpio and I am here to give you a review. This is only my opinion so you can take or leave any opinion or suggestion I have.
Your story was difficult for me to read. I think this is someone talking to a doctor of psychiatry as you say, of a traumatic event in their lives. I got all the reading about him just being into puberty when he heard all of this, but I don't know if I would call this traumatic. I see a young boy getting aroused and jacking off from hearing everything going on in his moms bedroom but there wasn't anything to lead me to believe it turned him. Your style of writing with this story was somewhat erratic because you really don't have this man explaining what he has done from this experience. You have too much that you have left for the reader to figure out. I think you have the beginnings of a good story, but it needs more work. I wasn't sure this was ab excerpt from a book you are writing or it was a stand alone story. I think if you work on this some more it can be a very exciting or scary story, whichever you want it to be. Keep writing and I hope to see a revision of this.
I throughly enjoyed your story! I was a little hesitant in the beginning, not knowing, of course, this was not the real doctor. Then the young lady came in and he was pleasant enough, even when he suggested her doing the Rorschach test. She didn't hesitate for one moment. However, I thought she was either a sex pervert or she was hiding a gun. I think this is probably what you wanted the reader to think. I have to laugh because I thought she would be naked under her coat. I must say I was expecting some kind of twist, but not what you presented. I say, yeah and very good for you as you completely surprised me when the lady in question actually ended up being another psychopath. Good job. Keep up these great stories!
And thank you very much for asking me to review it.
What an interesting person Merci is. The fact that she wanted to do a survival test when she was only 9 makes her even more interesting. The fact her fact would put her to this test at such a young age shows he knew what talent she had.
Your description of Waterwood made me feel as though I was there with her. I would have loved to have a place such as that. How very many people wouldn't want it.
Merci's cat Mandala is amusing and reminds me of my granddaughters cat Ferral. On a normal size person he stands tall and well past their knees. Some people are a bit standoffish when around him, but he is a very likeable cat. Merci's grandmother was a true blessing to her. This gives Merci so much soul. I like her. The fact she has premonitions - comin in an awful way to her - makes her even more interesting. Yes, I know I have used that word three times, but it is the way I see her and what makes her tick.
Now I must read on to see who is on the Island and why she is going there.
Your writing reminds me of Ken Follett and the way he weaves his story until it all comes together. Keep up this great work. I can't imagine you not being published.
First, I would like to say, what Mr. Kissinger had to say drop my thoughts of him down a lot. Now, on with the review.
Once again you drew me right into this chapter. Me, someone who does not read about soldiers, war, etc. You are very good at drawing the reader into your story and keeping them glued to the rest of it. What a wonderful gift you have of doing this. I know a lot of hard work goes into it also.
In your beginning of this story I thought for sure it would be about an old soldier going back in time over and over again because there was nothing left for him to do. Then he is given a younger man to teach everything he knew.You certainly proved me wrong. When the red phone rang I realized this story was just getting started. Now, I am anxious to meet his old crewmen (no pun intended) and see just where this story will take me. But, once again you have left me wanting more. So, I will continue to read the chapters and see how they all fit together. Hurry and come back from your sabbatical and get back to writing.
Merci sounds like she is having a very hard life. I well understand her wanting to sleep and not being able to. I cannot count the number of times I have gone into the kitchen and heated up some milk to drink, hoping it would relax me and help me go to sleep. So far it hasn't. Even the Chamomile tea doesn't seem to help. Now, the vibrator I have never thought of and I imagine my husband would want to know what the heck was wrong with me. Anyway, insomnia sucks.
It must be comforting to have something written by your father on a portion of a table. His writing pretty much says it all. At least I think many a person would agree with what he had to say.
I have always believed animals can sense when someone or something unseen is there. In this case her cat was definitely trying to warn her, but she listened too late. What happens next to her is horrible. I can't even imagine the pain she went through and the fact it took longer than most of the other attacks she has had.For her to remember when she was three (a baby) and having this monster attack her is unthinkable. Fortunately for her she passed out. Then dreams? hallucinations? Who knows but she Merci.
For Merci, I can see this is only the beginning for the reader to get to know her and what is going to happen to her. Because she and the reader are left with the message that it, whatever it is, is now on the island with her. I am extremely interested in seeing how you weave all of this together.
Okay, now I am starting on your book and as usual you have completely captured my attention. And it is in Alaska of course. You must love Alaska. I have an aunt and uncle who squatted some land so many years ago. They had at least 7 children. It was a hard life but they loved it and they still have their lad. It is way outside of Fairbanks, I believe.
With the naming of the Albatross no wonder the ship went down. Then with the waves going from rolling over the ship to it stopping and being choppy with back and forth motions brings about a very eerie feeling. The mist and the jagged rocks bring complete fear and I felt so sorry for all souls on board. I never expected Mikhael to survive and yet, so far, he has. On waking, I can understand the poor boy thinking he was dreaming when he could not feel the grass. What a wonder he found when the beautiful young indian girl shows herself to him. Then he must have been terrified when the man stepped out. With his strength ebbing, he knew he was dying. And here you leave us with knowing something else is about to happen to him. Fantastic!
You are definitely a master of your craft and I am looking forward to reading more. Just keep writing these stories as they are intriguing and wonderful.
It never ends impressing me how precise these young men are and how dedicated to show respect for those who have fallen before them.From what I understand a service man is picked from the cream of the crop. Those men have ask to do this and take their turn at waiting to see if they are picked next.
Your poem is beautiful and the best part came last with the words The fallen can hear the Steps constantly
The echoes of the fallen speak of Peace
This is really a great poem! I like the way you made the river close to being human. The fact you can't alter its course, but you can try to guide it in another direction. Even if that was working - with a bad rain -- the river would overflow and go back to the natural course that had been set for it. I almost feel sorry for the river because it doesn't know its destiny. The thought of that wonder water ending up in a non-flowing body of water and becoming stagnant gives me chills. From your poem i want to cheer for the river and bring to a good home. Strange, how your poem has evoked these feelings in me. Great writing! Keep up this wonderful work.
Oh my goodness! I sit here waiting to have dinner (which I just cooked) and wishing I had had this recipe before I made what I did. I am a pasta fan from way back and cook it all the time. WE do get tired of the same old stuff like Lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, all the heavy stuff and it is always nice to have something refreshing! I toss a great pasta salad but it makes enough for 10 people and there is only three of us... you sound like a very good cook and you really like cooking. So do I! Last night I made the cornbeef and cabbage and tonight a turkey breast with green beans, dressing and gravy. It has been hard working with one hand and when I use the other one I start hurting something awful. At least I feel like I am doing something though. I hate not being able to do all the things I use to do, but I know it will be over soon. I have to tell you, I am having so much fun looking through your pictures, reading your recipes and your poems and stories. It has told me a bit about you. Thank you for letting me in. Keep on doing what you are doing because it is very special and I am so glad I met you/
This is a lovely poem. The
psalm of Ruwth says it all. It is so true how in our very darkest of moments we know we can call on our Father, God. He stays with us always and that was his promise when he gave us his one and only Son Jesus. My favorite part of all is when you say "You transform us from the many and make us one in your love." For God is the Father of all of us and we are all brothers and sisters. Thank You for sharing your thoughts with us.
Dark and Humorous Poem. The title of your poem fits well. It does tell you about a sleeper, but not of what kind.
While the golden day loomed,
gloomy, over my rest,
the feather-puffs trilled
like fathers and mothers
who claim to know best.
I love this stanza saying like fathers and mothers letting them know what they say are the best. I would take the comma away from loomed and gloomy and make that a complete sentence. You can use double quotes when the birds are talking. When someone is thinking or talking to themselves it does not have to have quote marks. You can put them in italics.
You said you felt as if your poem needed something to wake it up (no pun intended). I realize it is free style writing, but if you put a little color in it
such as-the feather-puffs with their flat black color, trilled.
In all you have a nice little poem here. You can choose to use some of my suggestions or not. I am only here to help.
How beautifully put. I think about me and how I too did not want to listen to my mother, or my father for that fact. But it was my mother who continued to keep me towing the straight line. And from both of them I have learned more than I ever thought I would. Raising your children I do understand about trying to endow them with this wisdom. Believe it or not it will come back to you. He has for me.
Lynda with a Y
This review was purchased for you by an anonymous member.
Still laughing. this is such a cute, but true poem. I had to open my desk drawer to see how many I had hiding in the crevices. The description of them looking out of their plastic prison set me laughing as I look over at mine in it's plastic prison. You made me wonder how many I too have pitched into the trash. I loved the entire poem.
Lynda with a Y
This review was purchased for you by an anonymous member.
A beautiful tribute to your father. The beginning with showing how your fathers hands looked after years of working with wood. Telling us about his lungs filled with years of sawdust. I could smell the stain used on the wood. And the beauty of his work and the love you shared with him I hear in your story.
To be able to have pieces of him left for all generations is wonderful.
Beautiful story.
Lynda with Y
This review was purchased for you by an anonymous member.
WOW! You caught the storm in words. How many times have all of us feared the thunder and lighting. It does wake a person up, especially when the lighting strikes so close to home. I love the way you wrote the howl of the wind at the windows and the bushes shaking back and forth. Very scary. This could be used in a novel.
The part I like best is when it rumbles away with the beginning of the raindrops.
What an interesting poem this is. The beginning with the envy of a lone bare tree. Stately in its string branches where birds go to nest.
Then it turns around, with the tree not being lonely but when those come they see he is deception for he is full of pride. I really like the way you shifted this to the lonely bare tree who when spring arrives will flourish and people will come and birds will nest in it.
I thought the transition was well done. Great writing!
I knew about your eyesight and the accident but I am so sorry you have had to go through all of this. You know, some people have a really hard life and are really bitter, but I find you are a breath of fresh air. I know you complain to your dog, I do the same and she listen to me. But we try not to complain all the time to others. You always have a positive attitude and thats what God likes. We all have different hardships we have to work through, but loving God gives us so much strength. hen i lost my daughter I had screamed God to take me instead of her. Of course he didn't listen, but I think his plan was for us to raise this wonderful young boy we have. At our age it is challenging but look at you. You have greater challenges.
Never let those get you down and keeping on fighting. I will do the same when I go for surgery this Friday. Pray my lungs hold out.
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Now, I am anxious to meet his old crewmen (no pun intended) and see just where this story will take me. But, once again you have left me wanting more. So, I will continue to read the chapters and see how they all fit together. Hurry and come back from your sabbatical and get back to writing.